


I Will Protect You

by Ollieollieupandfree



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Albino Legolas, Character Death, Emotional Trainwrecks are always fun, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort without the Comfort, I Guess Semi-Yandere Aragorn, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Is that even a phrase I can use in this context, M/M, So are killing the characters people actually like, fuck it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 04:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollieollieupandfree/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: As the Fellowship travels, a hated phrase causes issues along the way.Awkwardly AU, so if that's not your cup of tea please leave the pot for someone who would enjoy one.





	I Will Protect You

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know shit about how grammar works so just go with me on this, okay? I don't own Lord of the Rings or affiliated characters and franchises. Blah. . . blah. . . blah. 
> 
> I may make more of this if y'all want more. This is cross-posted on my ff.net so I'm not, like, stealing this from them we're the same person.

Legolas has never liked someone protecting him. He did not like the implication that he could not protect himself. Though he understood that such a saying was not actually an implication that he could not protect himself, more of a way of expressing a sentiment of wanting to be sure of his safety. He still did not like it. It made him feel weak and underestimated when someone told him they would protect him.

 

Aragorn has always had a skewed sense of protection. Legolas had seen it for the first time when the human was very young. They had been wandering around Imladris, and one of the noldor elves - a particularly old viewed one - had made a comment about Legolas’ silvan nature. Legolas had been angry, but he was a prince. He knew better than to outwardly confront the elf, rather he would tell Lord Elrond and he would deal with the elf. Aragorn, however, was not as well trained towards passive aggressiveness as Legolas, and had outright attacked the elf.

 

Everyone knew of Lord Elrond’s human charge, and could recognize him on sight. The elf did not fight back. Aragorn had flown off the handle, screaming what Legolas had assumed to be insults in Westron, he was not sure as he had yet to master the language and only knew a few phrases. But he knew enough to drag Aragorn off of the elf. Aragorn calmed down immediately at Legolas’ touch, and proceeded like nothing had happened. Later that week, Legolas had gone to the healer’s ward to check on the elf. He was injured, but he would heal, and there would be no scars or lasting injuries.

 

Over the years, Aragorn’s temper had been tamed. Though when he was younger, there were several attacks when someone insulted someone Aragorn cared about. Whether orc, elf, man, or dwarf. But, at eighty-seven years old, Aragorn was considerably calmer. That still did not stop Legolas from gritting his teeth and grabbing Aragorn’s arm when Gimli said a particularly scathing comment. But, for the most part, Aragorn was calm.

 

Until Moria. Legolas was scared. It was not something that happened often, but he could not help it at this time. All elves had a natural aversion to the dark, being creatures of light and splendor. And they were none too fond of caves either. Elves were connected to the trees and to the heavens, Legolas even more so than most, and caves blocked them from those that they held dear to their hearts. Legolas was afraid, because the dark scared him. He would never admit to such a childish fear, but he found himself curling into himself and focusing to maximize the glow that all elves had as much as he could. He found himself training his ruby red gaze ever more oftenly on his own glowing skin or Gandalf’s staff.

 

‘Do not worry,’ Aragorn had murmured in their first night in Moria, ‘I will protect you.’ Legolas had shivered at the words, not only because of the usual reason he hated those words; but because he also remembered what Aragorn’s idea about protection was. Legolas worried for the dwarves that the Fellowship may encounter in their stay.

 

‘Soon, Master Elf,’ said Gimli, ‘You will know the hospitality of dwarves!’ Legolas laughed, a bright, clear sound that hid any ill feelings he had.

 

‘Indeed, I shall look forward to being proven wrong about your people, Master Dwarf,’ said Legolas, brushing a stray lock of hair over his dagger-pointed ears, ‘But I must ask; Where are they? For we have naught of a dwarf aside from yourself since we have entered.’

 

‘Mayhap,’ Gimli said in an inquisitive voice, ‘They have moved deeper into the halls for their protection. We will see them soon, I am determined.’

 

‘Then I shall take your word as truth,’ said Legolas, going back to admiring studiously brightening his glow to keep the darkness at bay. A few members of the Fellowship seemed gleeful at the extra light provided by him.

 

‘Do all elves glow as bright as you, Legolas?’ asked Pippin, the young hobbit’s head cocked in curiosity.

 

‘We glow brighter than the stars but fainter than the moon,’ answered Legolas, speaking in riddles as was the way of the elves.

 

‘Is that a no? I’m going to take that as a no,’ Pippin said with a shrug. 

 

‘I believe it was an answer of some sorts, but I do not believe a no,’ said Aragorn, entertaining the hobbits as he so often did. Legolas shuddered to think when Aragorn’s full protection may become necessary for the hobbits’ lives to continue.

 

It was not long later that they discovered the fate that the lords of Moria had suffered. Gimli lamented his sorrow in telling stories to the Fellowship of his family before they had met their bitter end. Though Legolas was saddened over the loss of Gimli’s family, and worried at the threat that may still loom over them. Even worse, Legolas had heard the following Gollum creature since little after they had left Imladris. Legolas was worried that the Gollum creature would attack Frodo and steal the ring and so - knowing of the Gollum creature’s aversion to light - he struggled to strengthen his glow more.

 

‘Legolas, mellon nin, are you frightened? Your glow, though beautiful, strengthens with every passing moment. You need not be afraid, Legolas nin, for I will protect you,’ said Aragorn. Legolas shuddered at the possessive phrasing of his name, and at those most hated words.

 

‘I hold no fear for my safety, Aragorn, but for that of the ring bearer's. The Gollum creature is following us and has been for quite some time. I am worried that here, in the dark of Moria without the protection of the dwarf lords, he will attack and attempt to steal the ring,’ said Legolas, foregoing referring to Aragorn as his friend in light of Aragorn’s earlier slip.

 

‘I will protect him, as I will protect you. I will protect everyone in this company until we are made to separate,’ Aragorn said, sure of himself.

 

‘Then I will trust you in that,’ said Legolas, his tone sure of what he had decided, ‘Though I will keep my glow as strong as I can make it, knowing that the light will keep the Gollum creature at bay.’

 

‘But, mellon nin, will it keep those that we worry so dearly for awake? You are best to resume your usual glow and allow me to protect you from the creature and to keep him at bay,’ said Aragorn, his tone pleading and concerned. Legolas looked over at the hobbits as they started to set up camp for the night. Legolas nodded and closed his eyes, his glow receding until it resumed its natural shine.

 

‘You are in the right, mellon nin,’ said Legolas, gracing Aragorn with the fond phrase as he so often did. Legolas was unaware when he had ever actually stopped using it, and realized that it was foolish to do so. The dark of Moria seemed to encroach on Legolas even more without the extra light, but he stopped himself from strengthening his glow, if only for the sake of the hobbits.

 

Gandalf was dead. Legolas did not know what to do. Gandalf was dead, the hobbits were grieving - so was Gimli and Aragorn - and Boromir was angry. Boromir was angry because Legolas did not know how to grieve. Legolas had not been permitted to grieve his mother’s death, and he did not feel that Thranduil’s way of grieving was the most healthy. That did not, however, stop his longing for a goblet of wine when a memory of Gandalf hit him particularly hard.

 

Lothlorien was a relief. Legolas enjoyed being near his aunt and uncle, and the mourning of his kin helped him to mourn as well. The biggest relief of Lothlorien, Legolas is compelled to admit, is the way it gives him the chance to get away from Aragorn. Since Moria, his friend has been keeping an uncomfortably close eye on Legolas, and the prince was feeling worried and suffocated.

 

‘Mae Govannen, Legolas,’ said Haldir, his voice warm and his gaze caring as he looked upon his royal friend.

 

‘Mae Govannen, indeed, Haldir!’ Legolas exclaimed, happy to see his friend in circumstances other than a most disastrous introduction.

 

‘You are avoiding your friends, little prince. Is there a reason behind such abandonment?’ asked Haldir, his hand resting gently upon the prince’s shoulder. Legolas turned his gaze away from his friend and to the beautiful wood that he resided in.

 

‘The ring calls to him,’ said Legolas, his gaze fixed upon the trees, ‘I can hear it. In the way he speaks, in his promises of protection. It calls to him and he is weak to resist. I fear for what may happen.’

 

‘He is stronger than any could guess, I have no doubt that he will be able to resist the pull long enough to see this quest through to the end,’ said Haldir, his gaze fixed resolutely on Legolas.

 

‘I hold only hope that you are correct,’ said Legolas, his tone soft with optimism.

 

They leave Lothlorien, and Legolas is unbearably sad to see it go. But he is also happy, because every step away from Lothlorien is one that is closer to Mordor and to the death of the evil thing that calls to Legolas and his friends in their sleep. He is also happy, because he has made a new friend. While Legolas before counted the dwarf of their company merely as a companion, he has realized now that Gimli is actually quite pleasurable to be around. He is quick and clever and always interesting to speak with. Legolas enjoys the dwarf’s company, even more so as he feels the darkening of Aragorn’s heart and how  _ hungry  _ Boromir grows. Hungry for the ring. Legolas hates to see his companions become weak like this. Though he knows that Gimli feels the call of the ring - indeed Legolas can hear it as well - Gimli is better at resisting. He is much too prideful to fall to such a silly little trinket as a piece of jewelry.

 

‘You despair for them,’ says Gimli one evening. Boromir is sat with the hobbits, making pleasant conversation. For a second Legolas can almost feel as if the man does not hunger for the ring. Aragorn is sat away from the rest of the Fellowship, keeping watch for anything that should decide to go bump in the night. Protecting them, as it was.

 

‘I despair for us all, mellon nin. We all hear the call of the ring, but I know that our mannish companions hear it more so than all of us,’ replies Legolas, his gaze sad as it is fixed upon his long time friend.

 

‘I fear it is so. They are good men, but they are not strong enough to resist the pull of the ring,’ Gimli says, his gaze fixed exactly where Legolas’ is. 

 

‘Men have always been weak. I have known that since I was but an elfling. I just hope that whatever strength they have holds out for just the while longer till we rid ourselves of that… dark thing.’ Legolas could think of no better word for the ring, dark seemed to be perfect for it. Gimli made no comment, seemingly agreeing with Legolas’ words.

 

‘Legolas! Gimli! Come join us,’ called Pippin, his tone as cheerful and innocent as ever, ‘There is plenty of room around the fire!’ Legolas and Gimli exchanged a look, both unsure of what to do. While they could find no reason to stay away from the rest of the Fellowship, they also did not wish to join them. Eventually, Legolas stood and pulled Gimli to his feet as well. The two made their way to the fire and sat down with the hobbits and the man. Legolas sat next to Boromir, though he was sat closer to Gimli than he was to Boromir.

 

‘What were you talking about? Over there, all on your lonesome,’ asked Boromir, his voice inquisitive and not at all accusing, though Legolas would not have faulted the man had he been.

 

‘Yes, friends, of what do you speak?’ Pippin asked eagerly. Legolas was slightly unnerved at the hobbit’s wide eyes and eager tone of voice.

 

‘Nothing of import. Gimli here was telling me a story about…’ Legolas looked to Gimli for help.

 

‘When I was younger and had gotten trapped in an abandoned mine,’ Gimli supplied.

 

‘Oh, yes,’ Legolas shivered, in true fear, ‘Quite a nerve wracking story, if I am quite honest with you all.’

 

‘Oh? Will you tell us, Gimli?’ asked Merry, obviously looking forward to a good horror story, ‘I am always up for a good scare.’ Legolas was amazed that Merry would want a scary story after all they had been through in these past few weeks. Months? Time had always been confusing for the immortal Legolas.

 

‘I am not quite sure that anyone other than the elf and his kin would find it intimidating. In fact it was quite boring, but I will tell it to you if that be your wish,’ said Gimli, his tone teasing and light. Legolas was thankful for the dwarf’s surprising light-heartedness.

 

‘Oh, yes, please! I love stories. Wouldn’t a story be nice, Mister Frodo?’ Sam questioned.

 

‘Indeed, it would, Sam,’ Frodo said.

 

‘Well. Who am I to go against the wishes of the crowd?’ Gimli asked rhetorically. Legolas listened intently to the story, as did the hobbits and Boromir. ‘Twas, actually, a very intriguing story. Though the part where Gimli was initially trapped inside of the cave made his knuckles white where he was gripping Gimli’s sleeve.

 

‘Worry not, mellon nin,’ said Aragorn from his position where he had obviously been listening in on the story to it’s finish, ‘I will protect you from any monsters in caves.’ Legolas smiled shakily, his heart lightened now that he knew Gimli made it out safely. Though, given he was with him at the very moment, that was a given.

 

‘Isn’t that the word Gandalf used to get into Moria?’ Pippin questioned. The Fellowship quieted in respect for their fall friend for a beat.

 

‘Indeed, it is. It means friend,’ Aragorn answered, smiling.

 

‘What does nin mean?’ asked Merry, his curiosity obvious.

 

‘It means my,’ Legolas answered, ‘So mellon nin means my friend.’

 

‘Is that the only way to say my?’ Frodo questioned, ‘My lessons in Elvish were very rudimentary and limited mostly to what Bilbo had heard Gandalf say on their travels.’

 

‘No, it is not. But it is the my you would use when referring to a person,’ said Legolas, glad that the conversation had turned away from speak of caves and such darkness.

 

‘So. If one were to, say, refer to another as my love. What would it be?’ questioned Sam, his tone innocently curious.

 

‘Meleth nin. Or, melethril nin. Which would be the feminine version of my lover. The male version would be melethron nin,’ Legolas answered, his tone patient and happy to be sharing his language.

 

‘Why does the my part come after?’ Pippin asked.

 

‘Because it is more important for someone to mean something to another than to belong to them,’ Legolas answered.

 

‘So, if one were to use another’s name possessively would it just be their name and then nin?’ Sam asked.

 

‘Indeed,’ ‘twas Aragorn that answered this time, ‘For example, were I to refer to Legolas as such it would Legolas nin. Of course, you could also go with something along the lines of Legolas-en. Just for the sake of using Legolas as an example.’

 

‘The problem with the -en suffix, is that it implies ownership over something. It is not commonly used to refer to another living creature. It is used more in reference to an object for example, you would use it to say that that shirt was Sam’s. It is very complicated, and I am not quite sure of it myself,’ Legolas explained.

 

‘Really? How interesting. How do you say hello in Elvish?’ Pippin asked.

 

‘There is no direct translation for that word. What does it mean?’ Legolas asked, his head cocked to the side like a cat’s.

 

‘Well, it’s a way of saying greetings or hello. Have you truly never heard it used?’ Sam explained.

 

‘I have heard it used very few times. When my father had dealings with mortals, mostly. The closest translation I could think of would be mae govannen, which means well met,’ Legolas said, tapping his chin in thought.

 

‘How do you say dwarf?’ Gimli asked.

 

‘Sindarin would be cadhad. Quenya would be norno. I prefer the Sindarin, but it is my native dialect so that is to be expected,’ Legolas answered.

 

‘What about hobbit?’ Pippin asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

 

‘I can seldom remember it used, though I know there is a word. It is on the tip of my tongue… Oh! Perian would be singular, with periannath as the plural,’ Legolas said, seeming quote proud of himself.

 

‘What about man?’ questioned Boromir, curiosity getting the best of him.

 

‘You would find it amusing that the word man is actually what in my language. Human, however, would be echil,’ Legolas answered.

 

‘Atan, in Quenya,’ Aragorn spoke up.

 

‘What about fire?’ Merry asked.

 

‘That… is a difficult question. There is no direct translation for the word fire on its own. I suppose that I could give you a translation of all the words associated with fire and you might be able to decipher a pattern from that?’ Legolas said, knowing the hobbits would deny his offer even before it had fully left his mouth.

 

‘You all should get some sleep,’ Aragorn said, interrupting the hobbits’ stuttered denials.

 

‘You, as well, Estel. I will take first watch and wake you when the moon is at its peak,’ said Legolas, his tone leaving no room for argument.

 

‘All right, if you insist. Wake me if there is trouble. I will protect you.’ Aragorn smiled as those hated words left his lips, and Legolas sent him a shaky smile. He stood, using Gimli’s shoulder as a support. The dwarf - surprisingly - allowed it. It seemed that since the death of Gandalf, Aragorn had grown very fond of that phrase. Legolas hated it more than ever.

 

It was amazing how quickly everything could go wrong. It had been a normal day. But it wasn’t going to last. Legolas should have known that it would not, dare not. Legolas didn’t know when it went wrong. All he knew was that Frodo and sam had gone down to get water from the river, and Aragorn had gone with them for protection. Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Pippin, and Merry had all remained back at the camp. Then, there was a scream. Legolas recognized it as Frodo.

 

‘Stay here!’ Legolas commanded Boromir and the other two hobbits, ‘Gimli, come with me.’ The elf and dwarf ran down to the river where the scream had emanated from.

 

What they found there made Legolas’ heart stutter in his chest. He looked around, surveying the bodies that littered the river bank. There were a dozen orcs, their bodies scattered around the river bank. Legolas stepped over one whose chest still feebly heaved. Legolas could have lived with the amount of orcs - and the amount that would no doubt be coming - but when he stumbled over something else he froze. There, on the ground, was a small body, barely a child to anyone ignorant of his true race. Legolas kneeled and pulled the body of Samwise Gamgee into his lap. Legolas frantically checked for a heartbeat, hoping beyond hope that he would find one. Even a faint one would do. Just  _ anything _ .

 

‘Gimli!’ Legolas yelled, cradling the living hobbit, ‘Find Frodo and Aragorn! Make sure they are safe!’ Gimli nodded and started to aggressively shift through the bodies of orcs.

 

‘Sam,’ Legolas whispered, ‘Sam, wake up. It is time to wake up, perian. You cannot sleep for longer.’ Sam stirred ever so slightly, and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief.

 

‘Legolas…?’ Sam’s voice was slurred and pain filled. It hurt Legolas just to hear him speak.

 

‘Yes, mellon nin,’ said Legolas, his hand pressing hard against the wound in Sam’s leg. It was not fatal - thank the valar for small mercies - which meant that to have been knocked out he must have been hit over the head.

 

‘Friend…? Me, friends with an elf. That’s grand indeed,’ said Sam, his gaze admiring as he looked at Legolas. Legolas had long been annoyed by the reverence with which this small hobbit treated him, but it seemed to make Sam happy so he made no comment.

 

‘Of course, Sam. We were always friends,’ Legolas replied, his pale hand stained red by the hobbit’s blood.

 

‘Where’s Mister Frodo and Strider?’ asked Sam. Legolas would have laughed at the continued devotion that Sam showed, but he knew now was not the time.

 

‘Gimli! Have you found them?’ asked Legolas, calling his friend back to Sam and himself.

 

‘Nay, but my eyes are not very sharp. I think it would be better if you were to search,’ said Gimli, hurriedly making his way back to the elf and hobbit.

 

Legolas nodded, ‘Come here. Keep pressure on his leg, and talk to him. About anything, just make sure he is awake.’ Gimli nodded his understanding and took Legolas’ place so that the elf could search for their lost companions.

 

They were not within the initial battle space. But Legolas’, luckily, caught sight of a trail of blood that led away from the battle among the river rocks.  Legolas followed the trail, running along the river rocks. In his haste, he tripped as a hand snaked out and grabbed his ankle.

 

‘Frodo,’ Legolas gasped in relief, scrambling to his hands and knees and over to the hobbit, ‘You are alive!’

 

‘But… not for much longer, I fear,’ Frodo gasped. There was a large wound in his stomach, his skin seemingly having been ripped off. Quite literally, Legolas was afraid.

 

‘Frodo, where is Aragorn? Is he well?’ asked Legolas, frantic for assurances of his safety.

 

‘Strider… he… took the ring. You have… to get it back. He’s… gone insane…’ Frodo gasped, his tone urgent as his hand tangled in Legolas’ tunic.

 

‘I cannot leave you here,’ said Legolas, his tone frantic.

 

‘You have to. The ring… it’s taken Strider. You have to stop him. You have to get it back,’ Frodo said, ‘Leave me! Get the ring. You must destroy it, Legolas, it is your quest now.’

 

Legolas stood. Though reluctant, he understood why he needed to find the ring, and so he left the hobbit there to die against all instincts he had. ‘Twas not long before Legolas found Aragorn. The man was sat on a particularly large rock near the river quite a ways off from Frodo’s cooling body. His head was bowed as he gazed at something in his hand and his dark chuckles sent shivers dancing up and down Legolas’ spine. Legolas approached Aragorn carefully, fully prepared to sprint away at a moment’s notice.

 

‘You are as flighty as ever, mellon nin,’ Aragorn commented, his voice already warped slightly by the pull of the ring.

 

‘Not flighty, Aragorn, merely cautious,’ said Legolas, still hesitantly stepping closer to the man.

 

‘Cautious? You have no reason to be cautious, meleth nin,’ Legolas froze at the change of words, ‘I said I would protect you, did I not?’

 

‘What about the Evenstar?’ Legolas knew that no clarification was needed. Aragorn knew exactly what the question was referring to.

 

‘She has sailed, along with Elladan and Elrohir. But… I have realized. I never truly loved her like that. I loved her like a sister, and was too blinded by her beauty to realize it. ‘Twas you I loved, Legolas,’ said Aragorn, finally turning his gaze to Legolas, who shook his head ever so slightly.

 

‘No, Aragorn. You have been blinded by the ring. You do not love me as anything more than a brother,’ said Legolas, his tone frantic and appealing. He did not wish for this mortal’s love, though he greatly cared for Aragorn.

 

‘You are wrong! You think that I cannot love you because I am so young. That is it, is it not?’ Aragorn burst, jumping to his feet.

 

‘No, I only meant-’

 

‘That I cannot love you because I am just a man? Am I unworthy of you, Legolas?’ Aragorn drew closer, the ring clenched in his right hand.

 

‘No! Aragorn, I only meant-’

 

‘What!? What did you mean?’

 

‘That you are bewitched! ‘Tis the ring making you say these things, not your own feelings,’ said Legolas, backing away from the approaching mortal.

 

‘That is where you are wrong, meleth nin. The ring does not make me feel this, it only makes me tell you how I feel. The ring… it is a gift. It has brought us together!’ Aragorn surged forward and grabbed Legolas, holding the elf tight in his arms. Legolas struggled against the taller man’s hold, but froze as Aragorn crashed their lips together. Aragorn tasted of pipeweed, apples, and blood. Legolas knew that last one stemmed from the cut upon Aragorn’s upper lip that still flowed free. The horn of Boromir broke Legolas out of his shocked stupor, and he pushed hard at Aragorn’s chest, just managing to get the man off of him. Legolas turned to run back to camp, but Aragorn’s hand gripped hard at his wrist, preventing him from running to Boromir’s aid.

 

‘Legolas,’ said Aragorn, ‘Do not leave me. Please, meleth nin. I love you. Abandon me not for that man.’

 

‘Abandon you? Aragorn, mellon nin, I would never,’ Legolas said, his tone face softening as he gazed at the desperate man that gripped him.

 

‘Yes, you will. You will run off to his aid and… leave me here, all alone.’ Legolas should not have listened to him. Aragorn knew exactly how to manipulate Legolas’ heart. 

 

‘...I will stay,’ Legolas said, ‘But I will never forgive you if Boromir is to die and we could have done something.’

 

‘You will forget about him soon,’ Aragorn said.

 

‘What?’

 

‘He is pointless. You and I will run a great kingdom, and he will be forgotten. We will rule all of Middle Earth, together. Instead of a dark lord there will be us! We will kill anyone that we do not care for, anyone that was ever cruel to us!’ Legolas’ mind flashed to the elf when Aragorn was a child, to the men that had made lewd comments over the years, to Gimli.

 

‘No… no, you cannot mean that,’ Legolas said.

 

‘But I do! We will rule, there will be no one that can stop us! We will be  _ gods _ ,’ Aragorn said. Legolas knew where this was going. His mind flashed to Sauron. To Melkor. To every person that had ever meant harm to Arda. They had all said these words at one point in their lives.

 

‘No!’ Legolas wrenched away from the man. His gaze fixated on Aragorn’s eyes, how they glowed with the evil that had infected this mortal’s heart. Legolas sighed and stepped closer to Aragorn as his eyes filled with tears.

 

‘I am sorry, meleth nin,’ Legolas said, stepping closer to Aragorn, ‘I will not leave. You scared me, I did not mean to.’ Legolas pulled Aragorn close in a hug, sharp blade hidden in his sleeve. He had to do this. For the sake of Arda. He had no choice.

 

‘Legolas,’ Aragorn smiled against Legolas’ neck,

 

‘Aragorn,’ said Legolas, sliding the blade from his sleeve to his palm, ‘I am sorry.’ The blade slid between Aragorn’s ribs easily. Like a hot knife sliding through butter. Legolas stepped away slightly, though he retained his hold on the knife between his closest friend’s ribs. Aragorn’s gripped hard at his arms.

 

‘Legolas,’ Famous last words, ‘I… love… you…’ Legolas pulled the blade out of his friend and wrenched his arms away, turning from him. In disgust or despair, even Legolas did not know.

 

 


End file.
